Snow on the Ranch
by Angry Scotsman
Summary: A storm rages at Lon Lon Ranch, while inside Malon and Link reflect on their relationship so far. Very short and very mushy.


The wind howled in the darkness, taking the falling flakes of the blizzard and twisting them into strange shapes that danced and whirled in the air before dissipating again, never to be seen by anyone. It was not a night to be outside.

It blew low to the ground, rustling the grass of the huge field below, rushing onwards in the gloom to where a few small buildings clung to the crest of a low hill, encircled by a sturdy wall. It whistled through gaps in the walls of the stables, where horses shivered and snorted to each other.

It blew against the upper window of the house, rattling the panes, piling feather sized flakes of snow against it, but could not penetrate the room where a man and a woman lay together. The room was warm and dark, completely ignoring the storm raging outside.

The rattling of the window woke the man, and he looked up blearily through a curtain of floppy blonde hair. He had the look of someone who had faced many hardships, and knew that he had yet worse to endure. His body was lean but battered from his travels, dotted with a patchwork of scars and stitches, carefully sewn together by the young woman lying on top of him. She tended him every time he appeared on her doorstep, broken and burned, and this last time half drowned on top of the usual injuries. But no matter what horrors he encountered in pits of fire and the clinging murk underwater, he always returned to the comfort of the ranch. He had spent his younger years relaxing here when he thought his quest was simple, and after being catapulted through time into a world and a body that were wholly unfamiliar, it was the first place he had sought out. Though not just for the feeling of a warm bed and safe walls, but for the company of the girl who worked there.

Thinking of her now, he looked down into a mass of flame red hair. His old friend had grown into a beautiful young woman, who now lay with him in the storm, sharing the heat of their bodies against the cold night. He stroked her hair, and she wriggled her body against his, searching for the most comfortable position. When they lay together he could forget the cares of the world that had been dropped on his shoulders, forget the monsters and the hardships ahead, and experience a treasured taste of what it would be to have a normal life, of what it was to be in love. A smile crossed his face as he fell back to sleep.

It was several hours before the wind woke her, raging fiercely at the window. She was glad of the heat of the room, and of the body under her as she drew herself closer to him. Raising her head slightly, the woman cast a look over the room she had lived in her whole life. Her skin was pale, surprisingly so for one who worked on a farm for hours a day, her body was slim and soft, and her face was considered beautiful by many. As was her nature, she was oblivious to the interest she attracted whenever she delivered goods to the town, losing herself in her own song. What she could see of the room was lit by a dim light from the crumpled hat by the door, where the man's fairy lay sleeping. She smiled as she made out the rough shapes of a green tunic and a white nightdress, discarded on the floor. It had become far too warm in the room for clothes.

She continued smiling as she looked back to the man, her eyes taking in his strong jaw and unruly hair for the countless time. Her heart fluttered as she gazed on his face, content and happy, so unlike how she usually saw him. She welcomed his arrival every time, even though he bore the most horrific injuries, it was pure relief to know he still lived. It was only ever short lived, as she knew he would leave again soon, off to continue his quest to free the world from the iron rule of evil. She knew the importance of his journey, had herself endured years of pain at the hand of that very evil, but could never stop herself from hoping, wishing that he wouldn't go, that he would postpone the war for just another day. It was a selfish thought, but she couldn't help herself from praying for another hour, another minute with the one she loved, before he took her heart with him and left her alone and terrified, terrified he would never return.

He would leave soon, that was certain. But for now... with the storm outside, and with his strong body under her and his rough hands on her back, she was content to hide back under her blazing hair and imprint this moment in her mind, as though by holding him close enough he would leave a mark on her memory, as well as her heart.

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**A/N**: Really short I know, but this is my first attempt at creative writing in... quite a number of years. Any feedback would be appreciated, I may add more chapters in future or just do different stories.


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